


What a wicked game to play

by redlipsredledger



Series: It's such a wonderful life: The misadventures of broken assassins [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Widow - Freeform, F/M, False Memories, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Jealous Bucky Barnes, Okay fine they hook up, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Recovered Memories, Red Room (Marvel), Romance for assassins is complicated, Romantic Angst, Shared History, Their past is painful, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, all the feelz, buckynat - Freeform, character history, just a bit of smut, their past is beautiful, they want to be free, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/redlipsredledger
Summary: As a part of my series (and for the first time ever I have actually planned a second section!) this will be a chaptered series of significant moments in Bucky & Natasha's past highlighting their relationships and the pieces of it that lead to him remembering how much this one beautiful, stubborn, strong willed and dangerous woman means to him.Natalia's 17th birthday is one spent on a Balcony overlooking Tokyo with a soldier that has no idea why he even cares so much; bad tasting wine and good company though allows him to relax some and discover something he thought was impossible: He cares very much what happens to the Little Spider.





	1. Chapter 1

_July 23rd, 1947._

Tokyo was too loud; he hated the hustle and bustle of it. There were so many people and everything seemed too bright. It was like no one in this godforsaken city knew what it was to exist in darkness or silence and while a part of him had resented both of those things once upon a time, he craved them now if only to have a moment where he could _think _without hearing someone talk or laugh or the sound of cars and the lights of the street or even the fireworks overhead.

Fireworks that had the soldier flinching though he didn't know why. He couldn't remember why.

James Barnes was unaware of who he was; the Winter Soldier was the only thing he could remember being. He wanted to get this over as quickly as possible but the manila file on their target wasn't the only one that he had to read tonight. He had a whole other one - with far more information, too - on his partner for the mission. He'd trained with her for the better part of a year now, but he still barely knew what to make of her; it didn't matter though because he didn't need to.

Need. What was need?

Want? Want was a foreign word.

All that mattered was the mission. He leafed through the documentation on his partner; the picture they had in here did her no justice at all and the thought brought a smirk to his lips. He shouldn't care, it hardly mattered. As soon as this was over... He frowned. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him that this wasn't where he was supposed to be; there was more to everything than this.

A voice that he sought to suppress and quiet.

He flicked his eyes to the section with her name and he noted the date next to _birth date _and a small laugh broke his lips; he glanced at the clock on the wall that ticked away too loudly for his liking; they were due to go in the next few minutes and he pushed himself up out of the chair at the small desk and he closed the file, setting it inside of the drawer that he locked and tucked the key in the top of his tac vest; he made his way toward the door and glanced back at her.

"It's time to go." There was nothing in his voice, no emotion. He bit it back brilliantly.

There was only the mission, only there wasn't. Something undefinable stirred inside of the soldier and his hand clamped around the door handle; the metal screamed and creaked in protest. He felt her approach behind him and he shook it off almost immediately, wordlessly leaving the room.

The young redhead studied the handle curiously before she followed him out.

She'd been out for months now, months in which her mind had been made and unmade, muddled and forced and played with and still, she stood here today with some awareness of herself and she hated it. She'd push through it because there was no other choice, not for her. She breathed out a sigh as she followed him.

Her arms around his waist as they sped through the city on a motorcycle that purred like a kitten and it brought a smile to his face. He was almost sorry that they'd gotten to their destination as quickly as they did. He loved the feel of the wind against his skin and the sense of fleeting freedom he felt. He regarded her carefully as she climbed off of the bike. Studying her outfit provoked a pang of an emotion he wasn't used to feeling: Jealousy.

She flicked a look back over her shoulder, knowing all too well now that he was going to find the vantage point they'd discussed on the rooftop across the street and she looked almost like she wanted to say something; she decided against it, it seemed because she remained silent.

Once he'd reached the rooftop, he had a clear line of sight to the penthouse she'd been sent to in order to get closer to their target in order to line him up for the Soldiers shot. The target made his way into the kitchen but his line of sight was obscured and he huffed out a sigh. He heard the gentle buzz of the radio in her purse.

"Did I ever tell you it's my birthday tomorrow?" She was talking to the target.

He was supposed to listen in in order to make sure they'd gotten every ounce of important information before the soldier put a bullet in his head but he felt a sort of sadness; he faltered. He was never supposed to falter. He watched the target turn around to face the redhead, informing her that they'd have to be sure to _properly celebrate _and in that moment, he put the rifle down; his line of sight no longer existing and a battle waged inside of him. It was her birthday tomorrow and the arrogant son of a bitch she was in that room with had a point: she should celebrate properly.

It didn't matter, he kept telling himself that over and over in his mind, it didn't matter. They'd been trapped inside of that place now the whole time he'd trained with her; if he took the shot now she'd spend her birthday being wiped. That seemed almost too cruel for him to abide.

Maybe he did have a conscience after all.

He released a sigh and he turned to pick up the radio. It was her birthday tomorrow. That mattered to him.

"Stand down, Romanov." The Russian words slipped his lips.

Internally, he chastised himself for this; the mission was far more important than one agent and a birthday he shouldn't even care about. She was just another expendable asset. She was just someone with whom he'd been partnered on a mission with and nothing more.

Wasn't she?

She heard his words and she glanced out of the window, assuming that he could still see her but when the radio remained silent upon her quizzical look, she knew otherwise. He'd put his rifle down, the scope no longer offered him his sight into the room. The target walked toward her again now and Natalia offered him a seductive smile.

"Alas, we must put tonight on hold; I'm afraid I must leave." Not that he had much of a choice.

She reached inside of her purse for the sedative she kept there and jabbed him in the neck. He wouldn't remember anything in the morning and their mission would remain unscathed, at least she hoped.

She left the building via the service entrance; he revved the engine to let her know that he was there and that she'd better hurry up. Neither one of them said a word to each other until a good half hour after they'd gotten back to the hotel room.

"Why did you call it off? You would've had a shot in minutes." She demanded finally, unable to take the silence anymore.

"It's almost your birthday." He replied.

Why should he even care? She only knew because it was one of the few _real _pieces of information in this new implant of hers. 

It was the only thing she got out of him before he stood up and walked out of the room; she stared after him incredulously and shook her head, turning back to the photographs she had laid out on the bed and laid down on her belly, studying each of them without really paying absolutely any attention to any of them at all. She just wanted to do something to take her mind off of the fact that she didn't understand why he'd blown their mission for something so trivial.

It was trivial.

It didn't matter.

He arrived back after about 20 minutes and she turned to look at him over her shoulder; he had a paper grocery bag in his hand and she frowned curiously as she turned over and pulled herself up. He carried the bag and placed it onto the top of the desk and pulled out a bottle of wine, he held it up; it was apparently one of the finest in the city, or so the woman at the store had told him. There was a gentle smile on his face; she'd never seen that before.

"It's almost your birthday, you should have the chance to celebrate." He sounded almost human.

They'd punish the both of them if they found out about this. Their punishment - he had no doubt - would be severe, his perhaps less so than hers. HYDRA had spent his career with them telling him how important he was; he was merely on loan to the Russians, another asset to be passed around but he had value. He wasn't sure the same could be said for the Little Spider. It was the first time he'd stopped to think about the fact that he may very well be putting her life on the line for this, but it felt somehow important to him. It felt important to him that she wouldn't spend her birthday in the facility being wiped away again.

He knew what was coming as soon as they got back just like she did. Reaching into the bag again he pulled out two wine glasses and inclined his head for her to join him. He made his way over to the door of their balcony and he opened the sliding glass door; he stepped down upon one of the chairs at a small glass table and set down both glasses, filling them though he knew it was useless; they couldn't get drunk. Useless, but the sentiment was hopefully enough for her.

She chewed her lip gently as she considered whether or not she should join him or if she should hedge her bets on the probable safe option that would mean her punishment would be less severe and stay here; she chose to join him. Stepping out into the nights breeze, her hair blew gently and she twisted it, pulling it over one shoulder and she offered him a smile as she sat in the chair opposite him with one knee pulled to her chest and she reached for the wine. She studied him for probably the millionth time, but it still felt strange for her. They hadn't wiped them before this mission; she remembered months spent training alongside this man but... The implant was still messing with her head.

"I've trained you for months, Romanov; you never shut up." He poked playfully.

"Natalia." She shot back, a smile playing on her lips.

"_Natalia_" He replied sarcastically, He was messing with her and she knew it.

"What exactly is it you want me to say, hm? You and I have a mission here that doesn't involve you wining and dining me, Soldat." She rose a brow as she spoke.

"I wouldn't call bad room service dining _anyone_." He shrugged, trying to fight the grin that threatened his features.

He shouldn't care. He kept repeating that mantra over and over in his head. He shouldn't care, but it had been almost a year and he'd gotten to know this girl; he still felt like he didn't know a damn thing about her because she kept herself guarded but then so did he. He'd gotten little bits of information out of her over the time he'd spent with her just like she had with him but he'd been determined that it didn't mean a damn thing; he'd been determined it was work and work alone. They were supposed to make a good team and it was better to know your partner as well as you could on a professional level and that was all it was ever supposed to be.

Why did he even care? He heard the clock strike midnight and he held up his glass to her in a toast.

"Happy birthday, _Natalia._" He made sure to use her name; it still felt strange to him.

"Thank you, James." She replied, a soft blush touched her cheeks.

He couldn't help but note that the delicate pink accented her hair, nor could he fail to notice the fact that her eyes had flecks of gold and brown around the irises though they shone a bright green. He couldn't fail to notice the way that her mouth quirked anyway when she tried not to smile, or the way that her nose would wrinkle just a little when she was confused. 

What was this?

He flexed his metal hand. He watched her eyes flick to it immediately and he shook his head gently at her. It was no threat; he was making no threat to her or her safety, he had no intentions of harming her. He was far too curious on why he cared as much he did or why he'd noted the small details about her. She had a freckle just above her right collarbone that looked like a bird. A scar running down the top of her left arm that was about three inches that he remembered her telling him she didn't know how she'd gotten it. He reached out to trace it with his finger and she shivered slightly at his touch.

He knew people hadn't always been so kind with her; he understood that from firsthand experience.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Little Spider." he murmured gently.

A gentleness that he'd long since forgotten that he was even capable of. A gentleness that sounded almost foreign to him; it had been so long since he'd had anyone to be kind to much less anyone that had offered him kindness in return. Her eyes fell to his hand and he felt her arm move almost like she wanted to react. She didn't. She fought for composure instead.

She couldn't fight the rising tide of confusion in her regardless of how many times she tried to quell it In the time the two of them had spent together she'd started to care more than just for earning his approval. At first she couldn't have cared less if she tried; she was arrogant, she was over confident and she'd had her ass handed to her more times than she could count because of it. He was experienced, he was disciplined in a way that she wasn't and it showed in his training with her. It showed in the way that he overpowered her and pinned her, it showed in the way that he held her down and countered her attacks easily. He was something else entirely.

She had been raised by the monsters that pulled her strings. He'd been something else before. She could still see the faint traces of a human in his eyes; she had long since thought that had disappeared from her own. She'd been a killer since she was 13 years old. He looked like there had been a _before _ that wasn't just what they'd turned him into and she'd tried to ask, but he had no recollection of it.

"They'll punish us." She looked down as she spoke.

He dropped his hand from her shoulder and he released a deep sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she was exactly right; if it ever came out that he'd blown their mission purposely there would be hell to pay for both of them. 

"If they find out." He added, the faintest hint of a mischievous smile ghosted his lips. 

"Thank you." She whispered, bringing the glass to her lips.

He watched her nose wrinkle at the taste and he laughed. She clearly wasn't used to it; he knew firsthand that she was used to Whiskey and that was a curious thing. Whiskey often tasted far worse than wine, though he supposed it depended who you asked. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had either before tonight.

"You deserve a moment of reprieve." He replied. He sounded sincere.

The two of them fell into a sort of comfortable silence after that, neither of them really knowing what to say nor feeling the pressure to figure it out either. He knew that moments like this would be fleeting and there was a strong chance that they'd never have another but he didn't voice it; it was the first time that he'd spent any time with Natalia Romanova outside of the walls of the institution but he had to admit, for a first time? He hoped that he'd made it count; he hoped that he'd proved to her that there was indeed something human inside of him.

Just like she'd said.

"We should go back inside." He murmured as they finished the last of the bottle.

She smiled, pushing away from the table as she meandered inside and attempted to stretch her hand back far enough to undo the zipper on her dress, she cast a look backward.

"Help me?" She looked so young and innocent as she spoke.

He followed suit and moved inside as he observed her, the soft tone of her voice reaching his ears and he nodded his head as he moved toward her; his towering frame stood at her back as slid the zipper down without effort exposing the bare skin of her back and he closed his eyes, releasing a sigh as he turned and made his way toward the couch. He was determined that this wasn't going to get any more complicated than it already was. He had enough to try to come up with a cover story for already.

She chewed her lip as she felt his knuckles brush against her skin and as he turned to walk away, she released a gentle sigh. She stepped out of the fabric and made her way toward the suitcases on the floor, reaching inside for an oversized tee as she pulled it over her head, she made her way toward the couch in time to see him sliding his jeans off after discarding the rest of the heavy clothing that he was wearing and she reached out to take his hand, pulling him toward the bed. He remained unmoving, adamant on his decision. This was _not _allowed to get anymore complex than it already had. She let out a small laugh and shook her head. 

"Trust me." She spoke so softly that it was barely a whisper.

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, he allowed her to pull him over before she climbed atop the covers and patted the space next to him. He moved, sitting down with his legs kicked up but still sitting regardless; she gave his shoulder a light push and he fell backward. She yawned softly as she moved to lay down with her head against his chest.

"Sleep." She murmured gently as she closed her eyes.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he found peace with her warm body curled up against his.

\----------------------

He knew today they needed to finish this; he knew that today they had to end what they'd came here to do and they had to get back. He couldn't convince them for two days in a row that it was too risky to take his shot when it was easy for him. He was the best they had, after all. The Winter Soldier did not fail. He never had. He watched their target through the scope of his rifle and he watched the man put his hands on Natalia's hips; he fought to keep his finger off of the trigger. She needed him to tell her what he knew first and that was more important than his unwarranted jealousy. She did not belong to him nor he to her.

Even if it felt like that was the most untrue thing his mind could have thrown at him.

It took her only an hour and she had him singing like a canary; he told her everything for the sake of showing off and making out like he was far more fearsome than she was; he must have thought that it would turn her on and that provoked a soft growl of anger from the soldier, watching her nod at him to tell him to take the shot a wicked grin spread across his features; she moved out of the path of blood spatter and she heard the bullet crack through the window before it even made its way through the mans head, sending his body cascading to the floor. She moved toward the wall, digging out the bullet before she headed toward the door of his penthouse to meet her waiting extraction.

He was proud of _His _Little Spider; she'd done so very well today.

\----------------------

He did the same as last night only tonight, he told her where he was going and he came back with another bottle of terrible tasting wine; he found her sat out on the balcony again looking up at the sky. She'd already told him she was disappointed that she couldn't see the stars here and he'd made her a promise: Before they drove to meet their extraction and their handlers tomorrow, he'd ride out tonight beyond the city so that she could see the stars.

Even after all these years and even if he didn't know it, Bucky Barnes was a sucker for a redhead.


	2. If I ain't got you, I ain't got nothing at all

_Toronto, November 21st 1963_

Sixteen years had passed since that night in Tokyo and the pair of them had been wiped more times than either of them could count; each had been on missions together and separately and never in all of that time had they gotten the chance to get as close as they had then. It was glances, breaths, sighs that told a million things that words never could because they both knew they were being watched; when they were together it was like the programming didn't take root as deeply as it should have because there was something there, something deeper that stopped it taking hold completely of their brains and each of them resented it in their own ways; it should have been a saving grace but it had become a pain that they had to live with instead.

An unrequited pain, a feeling that could never be explained and ought to be buried for both their sakes.

Solo missions though, they were different; in those instances they became exactly what they were programmed to be and since then, he'd racked up a kill count and she'd dropped bodies, been little but a toy to people, sent to seduce men, sent to capture, break and stop hearts and now, now they wanted her to belong to someone else; they'd picked apart the beautiful lie that Natalia had been able to tell herself and she resented them for it but not half as much as she hated herself for the things she could remember having to do. It no longer felt like her body was her own.

It was Winter here, November was cold in Toronto with temperatures way below zero and a part of her preferred it to the heat of summer. The snow could bury more than just the ground. She liked the cold if she was going to be honest because it gave a person a chance to appreciate the little comforts in life, a blanket, a warm fire, hot cocoa... At least that's what the implant they'd created this time told her. This was their forth mission together since Tokyo, and the one that they'd have the least monitoring on because it was hard to get anyone out anywhere this remote without a hell of a lot of effort; this one was to meet a gun runner that didn't like to be anywhere near heavily populated areas; rural outlands were what he preferred and that suited her just fine.

It was a small sense of freedom, but she'd take it.

She was lounging lazily in front of the fire, one foot hanging over the side of a huge chair that swallowed her small frame with a mug of mulled wine in her hand. She'd grown up a bit since Tokyo, and while she was supposed to be into her early 30s now, she hadn't physically aged past 21. They didn't have her out for long enough for her to really age. He seemed different though, older somehow. Sadder. In truth, it was hard for her to see it but she didn't comment on it; it wasn't her place to do so. For all she knew, that one night had been exactly that: One night. 

Nothing real had happened since then.

Her memories were coming back in fractured images that were giving her headaches and she hated it. She placed the mug down on the coffee table and pinched the bridge of her nose, putting just a slight bit of pressure on. She'd tried massaging her temples for a good 20 minutes earlier and it had done nothing. It had been Eight days so far, eight days out here in the cold and isolation; eight days of almost-moments that had her more confused than she'd like. He trudged in moments later and through hazy eyes, Natalia watched him discard the heavy winter gear as she sat up.

"Did you set up the meet?" 

James shook his head, he looked altogether irate.

"He's still insisting his _contacts _aren't comfortable yet." he muttered.

She breathed out a sigh. This was taking longer than any of them had intended; she watched the way that he walked toward the startlingly large kitchen of their wonderful little log cabin and pour his own mug; she'd kept it on a simmer just in case he happened to want any when he came in and it seemed she was right in doing so. He made his way back toward her, placing the steaming porcelain down next to hers and instead of taking his own chair, he sat on the arm of hers next to her overhanging leg. She pulled it back and sat cross legged instead.

He turned then, sitting against the cushioned back of the chair almost like the two of them were sat on a sofa together instead of sharing an armchair. She tilted her head softly to the side and a smile played on the mans lips. 

"How much do you remember, Little Spider?" he knew the danger in the question.

He'd gotten lucky the first time, she hadn't turned him over to their handlers because back then she'd been younger, perhaps more naive than she was now; he didn't know anymore; he didn't know the first thing about _her _anymore if he even had in the first place. All he did know was that the years had been cruel to the both of them and that their stories had gotten significantly darker; he hadn't failed to notice the way she kept a safe distance from him. 

"About what?" her eyes flicked to his.

She remained guarded. He raised a brow curiously. Did she believe he was a threat to her now? It was an interesting thought.

"Tokyo."

She ran her tongue over her top lip before she tugged at it with her teeth, her eyes fell back to the patterned perch the two of them sat upon and he sighed, shaking his head before moving to stand up; her arm shot out to his wrist to stop him.

"I remember you made sure I had the best birthday I've had since before my parents died." 

His lips quirked into a smile. He sat down properly again and he looked at her, properly looked at her for the first time since they'd gotten here Eight days before. Every day since, he'd felt a draw to her that had started to break through what had been forced into his head and while he was doubtlessly confused, he found himself thankful; being closer to her seemed to ease the headaches.

"I've spent sixteen years trying to find the time to ask you about that night."

He felt exposed. He hated feeling exposed.

"The memories were jumbled; they're always jumbled but you pull something to the surface that I can never explain away no matter how much I try. The headaches are unbearable sometimes, I'm not supposed to falter. I'm never supposed to falter but you?" He let out a small laugh.

"What are you?"

He didn't give her time to answer before he stood up and picked up the coat he'd hung up, shoving it on and walking out into the cold winter air again leaving her unable to do anything but stare after him. 

It was two days after that before he said absolutely anything on the matter; she didn't mention anything either. They'd been occupied with a dinner at their targets house; it was large and ostentatious and in truth, Natalia had hated every goddamn second of it because he'd spent the whole time whispering in her ear telling her that he would '_love a woman like her on his arm_' and it made her want to stab him at least a dozen times before the second course of their meal. She shot James a glare during his time but she didn't see the way his hands balled into fists under the table.

He was definitely jealous even if his face didn't show it. He'd heard every word because he didn't _whisper _as quietly as he'd thought.

Come the end of the night, she couldn't wait to get out of the skin tight dress and kick off the heels that made her feel like she was going to break her ankle if she even so much as stumbled; the heels were high and thin enough to make her want to use them to stab the asshole though. She refrained because if she blew their mission her punishment would be more than it was worth to shut the sleazy asshole up.

Shaking her hair out of an uncomfortable up-do that made her feel like she was being scalped, Natalia didn't even bother with the zipper. She tore the damn dress off and kicked the fabric away. She was thankful no one cared about damage to the wardrobes they were sent out with. She glanced over her shoulder as she felt the door open again and the cold hit her back and he trudged in looking about as happy as she was. Wordlessly, she walked back toward the bedroom and leaned over to dig through everything for something far more comfortable to wear. 

He shrugged out of the thick winter jacket before discarded the jacket to his tuxedo right along with it, the bowtie was unraveled in seconds and tossed onto the back of the sofa. He regarded her with a gentle frown on his features before he rolled his eyes, sighing and made his way over to stand behind her, pulling her upright by the waist before he turned the pair of them so he was sat on the bed and she on his lap. She threw her elbow back connecting with his ribs.

"What the hell are you doing?!" 

Natalia's fierce green eyes blazed as she glanced sideways at him.

"I love you."

He said it as if it were the most simple thing in the world. Open mouthed, she stared at him. He placed a kiss on her forehead and set her down next to him.

_I love you._

What. The. Hell.

He rose almost immediately after he set her down and made his way toward the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove to brew some hot chamomile tea. She marched over and grabbed his arm forcing him to turn around and look at her. She'd evidently shoved some sweats and a tee on because while she looked disheveled, she was wearing more than she was before. His brow rose as he studied her silently asking her what she wanted; it took him a moment to realise his hand was clamped around her wrist but she showed no sign at all of pain even if it had hurt her. She yanked her arm back.

"Seriously?! Are you fucking kidding me?" Angry Russian broke her lips.

Clearly amused, the soldier laughed at her and shook his head.

"Deadly."

"That's exactly what we'll both be if you don't cut these bullshit mindgames of yours: Dead!" She snapped back.

"It isn't a game." He looked honestly hurt.

She recoiled, stepping back as she rubbed her wrist. 

"I mean it, stop. I don't need you messing with my head, too."

Awareness. Awareness was more painful than being under; she'd take being under gladly now.

"I love you." He repeated it.

"Stop." She took another step back.

"Why? It won't change it." 

She closed her eyes, releasing a sigh as she shook her head.

"You're an asshole." She'd known that though.

He reached out, pulling the redhead into an embrace that she didn't try to pull away from despite the fact that she knew she should. She wasn't going to accept this anytime soon he could tell, by the time she did it'd be time to forget again and it'd be like he never said a word.

If it was only for tonight she knew? He'd have to live with that.

"I love you, Natalia."

Damn him. Damn him straight to hell.


	3. The memory is rising fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas, Bucharest 1967.
> 
> A cheesy pop song he heard on the radio earlier that day and the snow as it strikes midnight provoke the deadly soldier into a softness for the sake of a beautiful girl that always plays on his mind.

_Christmas, Bucharest 1967,_

December in Eastern Europe; she'd grown up in Russia and he'd lived in varying places around the Soviet Union his whole career between HYDRA and the Red Room, the weather didn't phase either one of them as much as it probably did other people. Tonight, it wasn't as cold as he'd have expected. The moon reflected over the water of the river and he pushed the button on the side of the radio. The static was disturbed by a soft voice.

"Don't get so snippy, Little Spider." he replied as she asked him what he wanted.

Quite literally by snapping _What?_

He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"Look up." Was all he said before he set it back down again and picked up the binoculars.

The Archbishop was still exactly where he was before: Stood outside of the church with the rest of his congregation, candles, wreaths and a speech about how they should appreciate the Glory of Christ on this, his most holy birthday. Sergeant Barnes had never been particularly religious, at least not in his programming but he could appreciate the comfort that sort of thing brought to people.

If his deeds were anything to go by, he was going straight to hell and there was no bargaining that away.

"The moon." The radio went off again, this time it was her first.

"Mm, you told me once you liked to be able to see the stars and the moon looks bright tonight."

He couldn't recall why it was he knew that. He just knew he had to tell her about it.

"I did?" 

She sounded as confused as he was.

"Back to work, Romanov."

He didn't want to get into this right now. The mans blue eyes fell back to his target and he listened as they started to sing; he'd heard the hymn probably a thousand times by now. It was one of those sung by every choir on every street corner around Christmas time but he couldn't recall actually celebrating Christmas, how strange. He heard the radio crackle and then it remained silent.

Whatever it was she wanted to say, she'd decided against it.

She stood at the back of the congregation listening to the man speak; she couldn't see a salvation for monsters like her but she saw the looks of awe and respect on the faces of those that stood around her. A small laugh broke her lips. If only they knew they were in the company of a demon. She pressed the button carefully in her pocket and she opened her mouth to say something; the cold air hit her lungs and it was like a wakeup call that she hadn't realised she'd needed. She decided against saying anything at all. She had too many questions and she was getting fed the hell up of these dreams.

She turned on her heel as he dismissed the crowd, telling them that they'd be welcome here tomorrow for the Mass; she wouldn't be in attendance of course. What business did she have with a church Mass over Christmas? There was no praying away the evil she'd committed in her lifetime.

They'd agreed to meet on the bridge over the river and she pulled her coat around her simply because that was what everyone else around her was doing as she walked. She looked up again though at the bright moon hanging overhead and a soft smile touched her lips. She had always loved the stars.

Why did she know that?

More importantly, why did he?

He stood in the dull light of an overhead street light, she glanced at him as she heard the bells from the steeple chime out for midnight.

"Merry Christmas." 

She shrugged after she spoke.

It was the custom, wasn't it? That was what _real _people did. They wished one another a Merry Christmas with fake smiles and niceties that would fade come eight days from now when the New Years celebrations were all over and done with. People were far too friendly around this time of year.

He seemed to pause and a look that she didn't know what to make of crossed his features. The Sergeant reached out for her hand and spun her out, holding her hand with a soft grin on his features. Was he trying to dance? In the middle of a street?

Great, he was goddamn mad.

He began to hum the same song they'd heard in the cafe when they'd gone for breakfast; it was important that they appeared to be just normal tourists seeking to enjoy the beautiful Christmas celebrations in the city. She half smiled. He pulled her back toward him before turning the pair of them around and her half smile became a gentle laugh. 

"I don't have a gift to give you, so this is the best I can do." He spoke as he spun her out again.

The moonlight seemed to accent his eyes, they looked so much brighter now. Perhaps it was simply the smile that had stretched over his features replacing the same dead set look he usually had. She wondered now if that was a mask. 

"People like us don't do gifts." She replied cautiously.

"This is my gift to you."

He responded to her words gently.

This one sense of genuine joy and happiness.

The freedom of romance in the nights air before tomorrow rolled around and their pretense had to begin all over again. This one semblance of something genuine even if neither of them particularly understood what it was they were doing. He felt something crash into his mind but he didn't let it shake him; he maintained their dance until he'd reached the end of the song and he released her hand.

She looked flustered, a little breathless because of the cold air biting at the both of them but she looked happy. He could see the genuine sense of joy in her eyes and to him? That made it worth it.

"Merry Christmas, Natalia."

He had no idea what possessed him to do any of that, but he knew somewhere inside of him that he'd have done anything just to make her smile at least once before they were taken away again.

_Before we're taken away from each other again, I want you to know I meant it._

_I love you, Romanov._

He started to walk just to clear his head.

He glanced back at her, he'd been walking a few steps ahead of her simply so that she didn't see the stupid grin he had attached to his features; this was the most human he could recall feeling in a long time but then, perhaps it was simply the spirit of the season and watching everyone else all day.

Maybe it was just a part of the mission, another part of the disguise, the mask that he wore as a face until all of this was over and they were back in the facility again being debriefed. He wondered if they'd shove them both back into cryo this time; they had mentioned something about him training new recruits before he'd come out but he didn't know about her.

He had no business asking, either.

The words still seemed real and he shook his head. They weren't real. They couldn't be. Was this another part of the implant? He fought with himself internally about it. It seemed like she was the only color in his otherwise grey world. There wasn't supposed to be color or light here. There was only supposed to be the mission. The shot. The cold, heartless, soulless gun in his hands and the knowledge that when he pulled that trigger, someone would cease to be.

It was instantaneous. 

It wasn't slow and torturous like this.

"Do you--" He tilted his head.

He mulled over his words carefully.

"Are we real?"

She looked at him quizzically as she stepped from his side to stand in front of him. She studied him.

"You have more scars now."

She reached up to trace one on his forehead, a soft, sad breath breaking her lips. The soft feel of her finger against his skin was familiar and yet strange all at the same time; tenderness wasn't something he was allowed to become accustomed to and yet it was something that he had a feeling wasn't at all strange between the two of them.

"We're real." He confirmed it for himself.

Goddammit, how many times had they forgotten?


	4. While the shrapnel falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinned down and out of options, Natalia decides her best bet is to take out as many of them as she can before someone puts a bullet in her, but an explosion and shrapnel put a damper on her plan when she starts to bleed out and there's still over half a squadron wanting to take her out.
> 
> So why the hell is he saving her when they sent him here to do her job for her?
> 
> "Easy now, Little Spider. You lost a lot of blood back there."
> 
> AKA That time James stopped her bleeding to death.

_Czech Republic February, 1971_

She had blood dripping from a cut just above her left eyebrow, dirt smeared the blood from her lip where she'd rubbed it with her hand. She sat with her back against a wall that had taken more shots than she could count in the last two minutes alone; it splintered, dusting over her head. She held the gun tight in her hands and she knew the three bullets she had weren't going to get her out of this mess. She'd been pinned down by Rebels of the regime they were trying to implement now for the better part of 18 hours. Romanov rolled to the side as a grenade was tossed over what remained of the wall she hid behind for cover.

The explosion sent debris flying all over, a heavy lump of stone hitting her in the ribs hard enough to cause a sickening _crunch _and she knew in that moment she'd broken at least three ribs; the pain ripped across her side and she curled up, bringing her knees to her chest as she bit back a scream. She'd never give anyone the pleasure of knowing they'd hurt her. She blinked, trying to see through the smoke and dust in the air; she couldn't see a damn thing and it was getting real hard to breathe in here.

The loud screaming in her ears forbade her from hearing the footsteps that neared her, if she'd been able to hear them she may have been able to react before she had a gun pointed against the side of her head.

She felt it press against her temple. Natalia would not beg for her life.

She smirked, watching the man that pressed the gun to her temple and she looked as though she welcomed death. She'd rather welcome death than beg to live.

She ran her tongue across her bloodsoaked lip, the tang of dirt, dust and blood hitting her taste buds and her face contorted. It was a bitter mix of flavors. She - like most others - would rather something far nicer to be the last thing they ever tasted. A goddamn bowl of ice cream wouldn't be unwelcome right about now.

He reached down to pluck the weapon out of her hands and got far more than he bargained for: Romanov aimed the gun straight for his knee. She pulled the trigger and the sickening sound of the bullet blowing away the bone of his kneecap reached her ears, blood spilled on the ground as he dropped and fired. It was a useless goddamn shot, it hit absolutely nothing but his squadron was rushing in now and she didn't have enough bullets for every single one of them. There were about seven total and she had two left in the clip. Typical. A short humorless laugh broke her lips as she fell back onto her back and coughed. That hurt almost as much as being hit in the goddamn ribs with the lump of stone had.

Broken ribs were a real bitch.

Two walked toward her and one stamped on her wrist, pinning it to the floor underneath his boot while the other placed his foot on her throat and his gun pointed dead in the center of her forehead. The blood from the cut above her eye had obscured her vision by now. She didn't even bother to try to wipe it away, the moment she moved her other hand he was going to blow her away and she'd be damned if she was going to give him the excuse to do so.

Instead, she laid there with dirt matted blonde hair tugging at the back of her neck; she couldn't do a damn thing because of the foot on her throat.

"Kill me." She muttered with a bitter laugh.

She'd never ever beg for her life. Never.

She allowed him to think he had the upper hand because weakness was not permitted; _One, two, three... _

She counted in her head. Sucking in a sharp, painful breath the girl squeezed the trigger of the gun immediately firing at one of the propane canisters that hadn't already been destroyed in the explosion everything around her got bright and loud fast. Both men moved, diving to the side. One was taken out pretty damn fast by the rest of the wall crashing on his head but the other - aside from being a little battered - sat about four feet away from her groping around for his gun. A shot to the head stopped that immediately and his body slumped to the side. 

She didn't have the time to assess the damage to her wrist. Pushing herself up onto all fours, she crawled over and grabbed his gun; it wasn't like he needed it anymore. She heard more footsteps and gunfire; the dizziness was starting to make it hard for her to focus. It took her a beat to see why: She had a sharp shard of shrapnel in her side.

Ha.

She was going to die because she hadn't moved out of the way fast enough. She was going to bleed to death for being sloppy.

It was almost funny.

Her body faltered as she pulled herself to her feet, screaming into the hand she'd clasped across her mouth as she ripped the metal from her side and immediately, she realised she shouldn't have. Blood poured over her hand and she stumbled again over another piece of rubble.

"Shit." Was the only word she got out before she collapsed.

_I'm going to die here._

They probably wouldn't even care about it either. She felt an arm slip under her body and she felt herself being hauled up off of the rough ground. She blinked, trying to see through the blood and her eyes fell on a face that she knew all too well; a tired, weak smile made its way onto her lips before she winced again in pain. He stared down at her before rolling his eyes.

"Don't you dare lose consciousness on me." He ordered.

"Put pressure on that before you bleed out on me."

He reached down, tugging the end of his shirt so that it ripped and he handed her the bunch of bundled up fabric; it was ruined now anyway. It had blood all over it.

She noted the gun strapped to his back and she laughed. Weakly, but the sound broke her lips nonetheless.

"Did you save me?"

He raised a brow at her.

"Not yet."

She'd been stupid. She'd gotten herself pinned down and she'd gotten herself hurt pretty badly. If he didn't manage to get her back somewhere safe and patch her up there was a good chance he'd be taking a body back instead of an agent. He sighed. Stupid, foolish girl.

The safehouse wasn't a place easily reached; he'd had to put her in the back of the van that he'd acquired to get her the hell out of there and he flicked his eyes over his shoulder as he drove through the darkened war torn streets.

"You keep pressure on that goddamn side, Romanov." He hissed.

His blue eyes focussed on the road again. He could hear her breathing become labored but thankfully, the little idiot had managed to keep herself alive if only barely as he pulled up outside, he didn't even bother to turn off the engine. Moving to the back of the van, he moved her out as carefully as he could. She wasn't conscious anymore; she laid in a pool of blood and her heart rate was thready at best.

Goddammit, Romanov!

The safehouse was well stocked thankfully, and it took him less than a minute to have her set up on an IV once he'd stitched up her side; it wasn't pretty but it stopped most of the blood after he'd cauterized the internal damage the little idiot had caused ripping the metal out. She was going to suffer with this one even with enhanced healing for a good few weeks if they didn't neutralise her first for her failure. She was stupid. She'd been reckless. She was too stubborn for her own good.

In truth, he wasn't even sure why they'd sent her in alone.

He was sent to complete her mission when it became clear that she couldn't anymore, but he'd decided on saving her ass in the process. Who said he couldn't multitask? They hadn't told him to leave her behind.

Sitting beside the unconscious blonde, two hours passed and he changed the now empty blood bag for another. She'd need at least three before she'd be stable enough to wake up; pain medication was a moot point. Their bodies burned it off too quickly so she'd just have to suffer with it. Maybe it'd remind her to be more goddamn careful next time. He walked toward the sink, dampening a cloth before he walked back toward her in an effort to clean the blood and dirt off of her face, being careful to try to avoid putting any direct pressure against the cut above her eye; that had only been three stitches and it'd heal in no time but he still didn't want to have her shooting awake with pain. She'd cause herself more damage.

It was almost midnight and there was nothing he could do but let her sleep and hope that he'd made it in time and that she wasn't bleeding internally.

\--------------------- 

Morning rolled around by the time she woke up, or more Dawn rolled around the day after he'd brought her back here by the time she woke up. Immediately, she tried to push herself up and he put a hand on her shoulder, effectively pinning her down.

At least he tried to be gentle about it.

"Easy now, Little Spider. You lost a lot of blood back there."

She groaned at him, or maybe at herself he couldn't really tell anymore.

"Don't call me that." she replied weakly.

"You're blonde." he commented, regarding her.

"And feeling like shit if we're stating the obvious."

He laughed as she spoke. It seemed as though everything she'd been through hadn't shaken her too much. She'd had a hell of a rough day, almost two if you counted the fact that she'd been unconscious for a whole day afterward, too. Her body obviously needed the time to recover and it had allowed him to complete her mission knowing that she was out of harms way for now. 

"How long was I out?" She sounded embarrassed as she spoke.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"24 hours, give or take." 

She allowed her head to fall back against the pillow as she huffed out a sigh. She knew this counted as a failure that she couldn't afford; they'd probably make what happened to her here look like a mild concussion. He stood up and walked over to the kettle, pouring her a drink of warm milk with honey; the same thing his mother used to make him when he was ill as a child. He didn't remember the significance of why he liked it, but he remembered that it had always made him feel better.

"Drink. Your body is going to be exhausted. I'll get you food soon."

He'd regarded her with such care but all she could think about was how spectacularly she'd managed to fail here and she couldn't even work out how. Everything had been going smoothly, she'd have ended the goddamn leader of the so-called rebels in a matter of an hour before someone started taking shots at her and she'd had to blow it all and run. She had no idea how the hell she'd been blown. Something had obviously gone awry that she wasn't aware of.

She took the cup he held out with a soft sigh.

"I don't know what happened." She admitted honestly.

"Don't worry about that now."

He knew she should but he wasn't going to tell her that, not when she probably knew that all on her own. It did no good to anyone to force someone who was already in a hell of a mess to panic even though they probably had a reason to. He breathed out a sad sigh; none of them knew what she'd face when she got out of here but he did know that he still cared very much what happened to her.

Watching her bleed out had been painful in a way he knew it shouldn't have been.

She'd never know that he sat beside her the whole time holding her hand. She'd never know that every sound and every movement had sent a jolt of pure fear through him just in case he'd failed and he hadn't patched her up. She'd never know any of it and neither would he soon enough, but he would know again eventually. He always knew again eventually.

"Rest."

All she could do now was rest and all he could do was make sure that here and now, she was safe. He'd sit as her vigilant protector because he had no other choice and he'd kill anyone that tried to hurt her.

"Thank you." 

She offered him a weak smile as she studied him, trying to fight back a yawn. She was incredibly tired but that didn't stop her from reaching for the tube sticking out of her arm; he circled her wrist easily with his hand and shook his head.

"Not happening. You need the fluids. I told you you weren't dying on me."

"You did?"

"Several times, now do us both a favor and stop being a dumb ass. You've done that enough in the last few days. Rest."

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he spoke. He shook his head at her and let out a small laugh.

"Mm, if I do? You should, too. You look exhausted."

She was right, he was. He hadn't slept at all but then he'd been too preoccupied trying to make sure she hadn't died on him. He reached up to brush her hair out of her face and cupped her cheek gently. She was bruised, battered and looked like utter hell but she was still exquisite.

"You sound almost like you care." He smirked ever so slightly.

"Says the man that waged into a shit storm to save my _dumb ass_." She responded, finally giving in and yawning.

He rolled his eyes at her.

"Go to goddamn sleep, Romanov. You look like crap."

How flattering. She huffed out a sigh to stop herself from laughing. Laughing was going to hurt.

He ran his thumb over her cheek and she wondered idly why he hadn't moved yet, nor what possessed her to turn her head slightly and place a soft kiss against the back of his wrist.

"Then come lay down with me and I will."

Stubborn Little Spider. She was still alive and that was what mattered.


	5. Tonight there's only me and you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalia having to seduce a potential new red room ally brings out a spike of jealousy in The Winter Soldier that he isn't keen on feeling so James deals with it in the way he knows best: sex. 
> 
> Determined to remind her that they belong to one another and not to their handlers, he talks her out of her mission and into a night in bed with him instead. 
> 
> {I'm not great at these scenes bc this is literally my only few attempts at it so, let me know if I mess up bad or whatever!}

_Rio, April 1974_

Natalia found herself stretching out lazily on the beach; as far as missions went this probably wasn't the _worst _one that she'd ever been sent on, at least not as far as places went.

She wasn't typically a fan of the sun, nor was she a huge fan of the snow but it didn't really matter what she did or did not prefer. She was playing a part this time just like always. She was an heiress according to her background and he was her bodyguard; she was to integrate herself with a wealthy British businessman and seduce him if necessary - which unfortunately seemed all too likely - and get him to sign an agreement with her employers; she needed the intelligence he had access to and they needed the money and the fresh supply of girls he could bring in for training.

He'd been retired MI6 for the last three years and he had clearance to this day, working as a consultant for lack of a better term he had access to information all over the world and he'd know which countries they could pick and choose potential new candidates for and with the influx of funding and access to the intelligence he could provide? Well, they could do countless things. She shuddered at the very thought of it.

Her target made his way toward the Russian beauty and he sat down on the sand next to her, running his hand up her back and she shivered just a little as he touched a ticklish spot and she saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye. She fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead, she turned to offer him a seductive smile and propped herself up on her elbows.

"I take it we're still on for dinner tonight?" She didn't need to ask.

She already knew the answer, he'd been more than eager to spend more time with her and she absolutely loathed the idea of it; she hated these kinds of missions but they'd made it clear years ago that her body didn't belong to her nor did her mind. She was theirs to do whatever they pleased with and if she forgot that, they'd remind her in a brutal manner just as they had a number of times when she'd been a child.

She wasn't her own person, she was their property and they'd essentially sold her to this man for information and money that they'd use to turn more girls into what she was.

She might have been the top of her _class _ but that didn't mean that the program stopped creating little monsters with her. She took in a breath as she glanced over at James; he stood about twelve feet away in a suit with his arms crossed tightly across his chest; she observed the way his hands were balled into fists and she tried her best to offer him a gentle smile without their target seeing it. 

Their target reached for her again, massaging her shoulders as he leaned down close enough for her to feel his breath against her neck.

"Of course we are, darling. I'd be a fool to stand up a beautiful woman."

The amount of times she'd heard those words from sleazy assholes like him had made her hate them with a passion. As he moved away from her, she let out a small, flirty laugh.

"Well, I'd better go and get myself bathed and ready, hm?"

She pulled her thin shrug over her shoulders and wrapped it around her slender frame as she stood up, brushing the sand off of the bare skin of her legs and stomach.

"Ah, yes! You women do like your hours of preparation." He laughed, attempting to flirt.

All it made her want to do was hit him. She leaned down and with one finger, she traced a line across his cheek before she straightened herself out and she made sure that he was paying attention to nothing but her.

"Well, I'm sure my _hours of preparation _will leave you utterly breathless." She purred.

She hated this. She hated these kinds of missions. As she finished speaking she turned and walked back toward the hotel, nodding at James to follow her just as he was supposed to; he was supposed to be her security guard after all and he kept his composure to his credit, at least until they made it back to their hotel suite and he let out a loud huff and turned like he wanted to find something to punch; his hand balled into a fist as it swung toward a wall.

She caught his hand mid-movement and shook her head.

"You can't react. You know you can't react. If there's damage here they're going to ask questions and they'll put us both under again. We've had two years no, three years where we've been allowed to spend it together after you saved me. Don't jeopardize that now."

She spoke softly as she released his hand and placed hers instead against his cheek. They had no idea how long they had left before it'd be right back to separate missions or one of them earning a place in the deep freeze again. 

"They believe you had more to teach me so that I wouldn't end up nearly dying again because we played our parts; you convinced them I was more valuable to them alive than dead or locked away because you made them believe I'd done more out there than they thought. We have to play our parts or we'll lose everything again and I'm not ready for that."

She hated it as much as he did but there was nothing they could do about it. He pulled her toward him with the one hand he'd placed on the small of her back and he released a small sigh, nodding his head in agreement as he leaned to press his head gently against the top of hers.

"You're right, I know you're right." He spoke softly.

A small hint of a smile touched her features.

"Aren't I usually?" She joked.

She lifted her head, nudging her nose against his as she leaned up to kiss him; her arms slid around his neck as he held the small of her back with one hand, the other found her cheek and their kiss slowly deepened as she let out a small a soft sound of utter frustration.

The hand he'd had on the small of her back had moved to rest against her hip bone and his thumb pressed against the fabric of her bikini and he put a gentle amount of pressure on her clit over the fabric; a smirk found its way onto is features as he felt her tremble against his touch and she broke their kiss to bury her head in his shoulder, soft sounds of pleasure broke her lips as he increased the pace of movement.

"Don't tease." She whispered, her voice breaking with another soft noise.

They both knew what this was; he was determined to show her that no matter what they tried to make her believe to the contrary, she was his just as he was hers. They could use both of them - though thankfully for him his were usually straight up kill missions; there was very little seduction involved most of the time - in whatever way they wanted but it wouldn't change anything between the two of them though it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his composure the longer they were allowed out of their stasis and allowed to continue to train together. 

He knew what was at risk but standing this close to her, her body so close to his restraint didn't exist and he was glad for it especially on missions like this; he hated watching her have to play those parts. When they were alone though, he'd happily remind her that while she didn't belong _to _anyone, she did belong _with _someone. He drew his hand away and watched the pout that appeared on her lips as a result. 

"Bed." He ordered with a smirk on his lips.

"Out of the monkey suit first." She replied.

"And make it quick, I've got a dinner date." 

He didn't look like he had any intentions of making it quick, at least not until she walked over to the bed and untied the strings holding her bikini together and allowed the fabric to fall to the floor. He made his way forward immediately lifting her to place her down on the soft sheets. She let out a small, almost girlish laugh; hovering over her, he pressed his lips to hers in a rough kiss. 

His thumb resumed it's previous movement this time without the fabric that had been a barrier before; the feeling of her warmth beneath the calloused skin was far better than an ache to touch her that had been barred by clothing.

His lips broke away from here as they slipped along her jaw and down her throat before finding her nipples, his tongue flicking over the tender mass and she cried out in response to two of what he knew were her favorite stimulants. He listened to her cries increase; her body practically begged for the relief he'd gladly give her.

As he flicked his tongue over her nipple, two fingers slid inside of her and she rolled her head back as a cry broke her lips. 

"Oh god, James." She could barely get the words out.

Urgent moans broke her lips as his hand took steady movements pushing her closer and closer to her edge and the closer she got, the more her breathless cries increased and she gripped harder on the fabric of the sheet to try and anchor herself. He could tell she was close to breaking when her hand shot to his wrist.

He raised his head and studied her curiously as she lay panting.

"Please." 

He knew exactly what she was asking him and he smirked.

"Please what?" He replied, his thumb applying just the smallest amount of pressure on her again.

She moaned immediately.

"I need you." She replied breathlessly.

"Say it again."

"Please."

He moved, nudging her legs apart as he positioned himself, leaning down to kiss her, tugging gently on her lip as he pulled away and entered her with a powerful thrust and she immediately responded with a gasp. As her heat engulfed him the soldier let a low moan of his own break his lips and he allowed himself to get lost in the dizzying array of senses that came along with getting lost in her.

His hips met hers with powerful, urgent thrusts as he hitched her left leg up so her knee rested against his hip, her other leg curled around his to draw him in closer. Each breathless, urgent sound of pleasure he drew from her reminded him just why he was doing this: to remind them both that she was his. 

She'd always be his just as he'd always be hers.

His hand slipped to cup her breast and he played with her nipple again, rolling his finger gently over it before he bowed his head to take it into his mouth, his hand moved to the other for just a brief moment; he slid his hand down her back then, his hand sliding underneath her ass to tilt her, thrusting into her deeper; eliciting loud, passionate cries from her. His lips moving from her breasts to tug at the tender skin along her shoulders with his teeth. 

He felt her drawing closer and closer before she tumbled over the edge and he felt her tighten around him as he felt the heat of her climax wash over him and she screamed out his name, dragging her nails down his back as she buried her head in his shoulder to drown out her cries. 

The pace and power of his movements increased, driving deeper and faster into her still trembling heat as he drew closer and closer to his own end, driving into her with swift movements that were far from gentle; more urgent and passionate, his body shuddered as he exploded, riding out his own climax with slower thrusts, keeping up his slower, steadier pace until he felt himself finish properly and he fell to the side breathlessly pulling her into arms as he held her close.

"Fuck, that was good." she let out a breathy laugh.

"I love you." He murmured, kissing her on top of her head.

Neither could do much but breath rapidly and unsteadily, but he knew he had to say what he needed or his night would go from heaven to hell in a heartbeat.

"Call it off tonight and stay with me. Just call it off. I don't want you to go." No, he'd much rather she stay here in his arms.

Releasing a sigh, she glanced down.

"James, we can't. We can't blow the mission; I won't let them take away the last three years. This is important."

He could tell that she was tired and he knew that she was right, but he couldn't do anything about it. Her expression softened as she placed a kiss against his bare shoulder.

"I understand that you're jealous and you hate when I have to do this, but I do _have _to do this. It's our job. The mission is important and if we start to screw around they're gonna know something is wrong."

He let out a groan; he knew she was right but he didn't have to like it. 

She yawned slightly as she looked up at him.

"Fine, I'll stay but on one condition..." she replied.

"Anything." 

"No clothing allowed all night."

"You've got yourself an easy deal, beautiful." 

He let out a small laugh before he tilted her chin so he could kiss her again.

An easy deal indeed.

God, he loved nights like this. It was the rare chances they got to just pretend to be a normal couple. She knew that this was probably a bad idea and she knew that she'd send him out soon to tranquilise their target for the night so he'd believe he just fell asleep and overslept but she'd hold him to his promise when he got back; not only did she crave the intimacy they'd been denied for almost 3 years but she craved the closeness. 

"I love you too." She replied sleepily, kissing his bare shoulder.

"Yeah?"

He questioned, trying not to sound like he was worried at all.

"Forever." She promised before she closed her eyes and fell asleep in his arms.


	6. Come back, I still need you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets hurt bad which leads her to drastic measures and a realisation that her fear of losing him outweighs everything else.

_November 8th 1974,_

There were missions that went awry and then missions that just ended in utter chaos and this was one of those missions that ended in utter chaos though she hoped it wasn't the kind of chaos that'd end up in someone getting killed, so far that didn't seem to have happened just yet. 

She blinked through the smoke and then slowly - painfully - sat up as one hand moved to her side before she pulled it back to see the blood that dripped from her fingers in the dim light of the flames and she huffed out a sigh wishing immediately she hadn't just moments later when a sharp spike of pain ran through her side. She glanced around as her other hand patted around the rubble blindly, the smoke was starting to burn her eyes but the moment her hand met what she assumed was his leg, she squeezed it with about as much strength as she could summon which admittedly wasn't much as she tried her best to rouse him.

Laying in the ruins of an embassy that had quite obviously been blown up was _not _how today was supposed to go, assassinating a diplomat was the plan and this was supposed to be a goddamn formal crappy event that she didn't really want to do but it had been a necessary evil and this wasn't _quite _the rushed ending she'd silently hoped for. She turned slowly to look next to her and she tapped his leg again with her hand, the knot in her stomach tightened as she noted that he didn't move. 

"James?" she questioned quietly trying to calm herself. She squeezed her eyes closed and dragged in a few deep, steadying breaths. Okay, okay. Focus. Focus.

_Keep your mind on the mission, Natalia. Panicking isn't going to get you out of this. _

She repeated that over and over in her head as she tried to take in deep breaths which given the current climate wasn't all that possible. The truth was that she had no idea how to get out of this, everything around her was caved in and the smoke was literally burning her eyes so much that she could barely see and her lungs burned that badly that all she could do was focus on trying to breathe from one moment to the next. She had to be strategic; she knew that he'd be scorning her right now for not thinking about how to get out of this mess and focusing too much on him or at least he would if he'd goddamn respond.

She rolled her eyes at the thought and pushed herself to her knees trying her best not to touch anything in the process because one wrong move and everything could end up crushing them to death. Her eyes moved around her and she tugged her bottom lip with her teeth and immediately wished she hadn't when the taste of dust and ash and blood hit her tongue. Everything seemed to be on fire which was _not _good. There seemed to be very little light aside from the flames but as she glanced behind her she saw a part of a fallen beam, solid concrete that would present a problem but moving it wasn't impossible or it wasn't if she wasn't on her own anyway.

She glanced around again and her eyes fell on a large block of concrete just to the left it it, it would be a pain in the ass and it'd drain a lot of what little energy she still had but she needed to get out of here, she needed to get both of them out of here if he was even- Nope. She couldn't think like that but still the little voice in the black of her mind whispered _If he's even still alive_. She clenched her hands to flex her fingers - mostly to make sure they weren't broken - before she moved over and pushed as hard as she could until the block moved enough to make a hole that both of them - hopefully - could fit through though it wasn't a quick task and it caused her a whole hell of a lot of pain in the process, the strain on her muscles and the pain that she felt ripping through her body - especially her side - felt unbearable but she pushed through it. She moved to stand up so she could look around and see what they were facing when they got out of here and it was nothing but fire, dead bodies and smoke.

Every single person she could see was dead, empty eyes stared at her and if she weren't so used to death it would've shaken her. It was a hell of a mess up there and she couldn't see a single person that was still alive but whomever was or wasn't up there wasn't her concern, he was. She crouched back down then and moved back toward him and once again, she tapped his leg before she resorted to shaking his arm when she got no response.

"James Barnes wake up." She ordered. Her voice was cracking. "Don't you dare leave me like this. Don't you dare."

He was _not _allowed to die. Not today. Not like this. He was _not _allowed to leave her. He'd promised her that he'd be there and he'd be right there by her side no matter what and she wasn't going to let him break that promise. She was absolutely adamant he wasn't breaking that promise today or any other, she'd hold him to it for the rest of his damn life and from what she knew about both of them it was going to be a long damn life at that.

"James please." she was pleading, her voice filled with emotion; she was trying so hard to keep her strength.

He stirred with a groan that clearly stated his pain levels right at this present moment in time and she huffed out a sigh of relief. His hand moved to grasp hers to give it a weak reassuring squeeze before he coughed and opened his eyes. He wasn't doing too well and she could tell. He was weak and losing his strength fast. 

"Hey there." His voice sounded so soft and quiet. 

For the first time since she'd known him he sounded weak. She'd never heard him sound this weak and she absolutely hated it, he was the strongest person she knew.

"We need to get you out of here, okay? We need to get you someplace safe so I can patch you up."

"I'm bleeding out, Natalia. You need to go. Leave." He couldn't even speak without coughing and immediately wincing in pain right afterwards.

"Not a chance," she sounded resolute as she spoke. She was making it emotional again, she wasn't supposed to be making it emotional. "I'm _not _leaving you here. This isn't how this ends."

She moved the rubble around him carefully so she could get a better look at his wound and whatever was causing it. She was being careful, she moved with such a careful slowness because she knew the last thing she needed to be doing was acting too quickly or moving something too hard and it causing more damage. She couldn't see exactly what was going on so it was dangerous to move things around too fast. The light in here was shit at best and the smoke burning her eyes made it a thousand times worse. She tried her damn best to blink through it but it was becoming harder because the second she'd moved everything more dust was blasted out.

It was becoming harder to breathe too but she wasn't going to say that. He already knew.

"Stay with me." This was a far cry from where they were just months ago. "James please, stay with me."

Her soldier, her brave, stupid soldier who'd done his best to take the brunt of the explosion for her laid there now covered in blood telling her that he was bleeding out clearly hurt by something she couldn't see. She was panicking internally and a little of that seeped into her voice. He groaned but laughed at the same time which was the oddest sound she'd ever heard him make.

"You sound like me when you were hurt," he admitted. "Couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

He sounded so weak, his hand moved to his shoulder. She moved a large chunk of debris as slowly as she could manage away from his arm and it was then she saw what had happened to him: He was impaled through the upper torso about an inch and a half below his lung. He'd gotten lucky there, sort of anyway. Her eyes assessed the situation in front of her, it looked bad and she had to admit that much. If he moved wrong or _she _moved wrong it was gonna get worse and fast. This needed the kind of calm and tact that she wasn't sure she could muster right now but she had to.

"We need to get you off of that thing, at least ideally," she sounded apprehensive quite obviously doubting her own skills. "It might be best leaving it _in _until I can get you someplace I can stop the bleeding when we do yank it out."

It was a good job she wasn't squeamish because it was quite a mess. He was hurt and _bad _and she knew it. She could call in and get an evac, she didn't doubt that they knew by now that this operation had gone horribly wrong but this wasn't their fault. They hadn't blown up the damn building, they'd actually tried to stop the son of a bitch that had from doing it but it clearly hadn't worked because they were buried under rubble and he had a goddamn metal spike - well broken pipe if you wanted to get technical - through his abdomen that'd end badly for him if he moved wrong.

She was trying to think tactically but she was taking it all personally. She was scared of losing him and if a team came to pull them out they were going to see it. They were best getting somewhere they could control the situation instead of having to rely on their handlers to get them out of all of this. She wasn't going to let him die out here and not like this especially not if their handlers decided that pulling him out was too much of an issue and that he'd outlived his purpose. This life of theirs came with risk and risk they were forced into against their will but when they were alone they could be whatever they wanted to be, they were their most trusted assets after all.

"Break it from the back." He muttered through gritted teeth. "I should be able to move _just _enough for you to get your hand behind me and break it."

She was strong enough, she could do it without exerting any effort whatsoever and he knew that, and so did she but she was worried that if she slipped even a little bit, it'd be game over. She looked almost like she was about to refuse before she released a deep sigh, closing her eyes for a moment as she nodded as her eyes sprang open again.

"Alright, on three?" 

"On three." He agreed.

He was leaned forward and he felt her small hand against his back, she snapped it on three and he let out a loud yelp of pain. 

"That wasn't fun." He glanced down at the piece of metal sticking out of him as he leaned forward. "So how the hell are we gonna get out of here?"

She could tell from the tone of his voice that he was trying to control himself and not shout out at the amount of pain he was very clearly in.

He wanted to see what it was she was planning to do, he wondered if she'd actually come up with a plan or if she was just winging it and improvising. He knew the wheels in her head were turning rapidly and he knew that she'd be calculating every option they had in her mind and she'd assess everything she could come up with carefully and thoroughly no matter how desperate she was to get him someplace safe because that was what she was trained to do. She had to think about it or she'd make the whole mess even worse. He could also tell that she was struggling with it.

They were running out of time and she knew it. He was bleeding out fast and he looked like he was threading in and out of consciousness which worried the hell out of her. She managed to get onto her knees again and she looked around, just above her the cracks and breaks seemed somewhat bigger than the others and there was no way in hell she was getting him out safely through the little hole she'd managed to create, not with the injuries he had anyway; she let out a groan and looked at him with a sigh.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch." She muttered before she moved to lay on her back and kick the rubble above her, it splintered for the most part and crashed down; she used her arms to shield herself as best as she could but she still got hit in the stomach a few times and across her knee which - she was right - hurt like a bitch but all it'd be was bruising and it'd done its job: They had a way out albeit a very unsafe one but it was a way out anyway and it was better than they had before.

"We're gonna have to hurry before the sides start to collapse in again." It wasn't exactly stable. It was far from it and they both knew it.

She moved to help him up as slowly as she could; he leaned most of his weight on her which he'd feel bad about if she wasn't as strong as she was. He was dizzy and his head was pounding. He knew the feelings that came along with blood loss all too well. He glanced at her and a weak smile touched his lips.

"You're stubborn, Little Spider."

"I told you not to call me that." She shot back immediately. "You're lucky you're hurt or I'd kick your ass myself."

He let out a breath of a laugh and she shot him a scornful look for that, too. He shouldn't be doing absolutely anything but trying to take it easy right now and letting her get them out of here but he was definitely stubborn and he wasn't going to listen no matter what she said to him so she didn't waste her time trying, she just shook her head. 

"So what's the plan, beautiful?" he questioned weakly, "I presume you have one at least?"

He was trying to keep himself focussed and stop himself from losing consciousness. He was winning though just barely and she could tell because he was leaning more and more weight on her by the second. She was trying her damn best to just keep him upright and talking which was why she shot him a look and a playful smirk.

"I have an excellent plan thank you," she informed him, "I'm not gonna let you die don't worry."

He wasn't sure who she was trying to convince more, him or herself but he had a feeling from the worry he could clearly see on her features that she wasn't convincing herself of anything. He wished that he could offer her some reassurance but his legs were starting to give out from underneath him and he was starting to feel sick and cold. 

"Natal-" he whispered not even having the time to finish his sentence before he lost all strength and fell to the floor taking her with him.

He heard her let out a soft cry and a plea before she started cursing to herself and pulled out the gun from the holster on her thigh holding it on an ambulance driver that had just pulled in and she informed him if he didn't help her right now he wasn't going to live to see the end of the next minute. He had absolutely no choice but to comply - an angry Russian with a gun was pretty convincing - and so he set about trying to stabilise her now unconscious companion, she kept the gun on him the whole time.

"Do not let him die," she warned through gritted teeth. "He dies and your whole _family _dies."

It was half and half on whether she meant it at this point though. She was out of her mind with worry and she just wanted him to be okay. She whispered a soft _please _when the paramedic promised he'd do what he could though she knew it was under duress. He assessed the injuries of the man laid before him and he told her over and over that if he moved the metal wrong he was going to puncture his lung, she simply replied coldly that he better pray he didn't.

He informed her then that he'd need her to pinch the artery that it had clearly nicked when he took the metal out, she nodded her head and did just as he'd asked though she was more shaky than she wanted to be. She watched James's body jerk as the metslnwas slowly removed and he shouted for her to pinch the artery quickly and as her hand touched the slick time she actually grimaced.

"I need to get him to a hospital," he informed her me quietly but she shook her head. 

No hospitals, hospitals meant paperwork and that meant issues they didn't need and a clean-up that was beyond messy, he needed surgery and that much was clear but she was adamant he wasn't going to a damn hospital to get it.

"Then you'd better get someone who can do it somewhere else," she hissed, her tone obviously full of malice. She was in no mood to be pushed.

He argued for s good five minutes before she reiterated the fact that he was still alive because she needed him and if he couldn't fulfil his purpose his life was therefore no use to her anymore and he agreed then to call in a friend of his who specialises in trauma surgery. She almost felt bad that she'd have to kill them when they'd gotten him stabilised but it was the job.

* * *

Within 20 minutes they were at one one the three safe houses they had in the city and he laid on a gurney taken from the ambulance while a very scared paramedic assisted her and her kidnapped surgeon save the lifenofnthe man laid on the table in front of them. Well makeshift table but still. 

It took a good three hours and a raid on a blood bank later and he was stable, weak and it was of course one of those situations where he needed close monitoring and he wasn't out of the woods yet by a long shot but she dispatched with them and took over from there with his care, she knew enough to keep him stable but nowhere enough to perform surgery.

He was unconscious for three days and he needed two more transfusions in that time but eventually he woke, groggy and still in pain and very uncomfortable but he smiled weakly at her as his tired eyes fell on her sleeping in an armchair next to the bed.

"Natalia?" He spoke softly.

He watched as she stirred, yawning she opened her eyes to look at him and immediately he noted the relief in her eyes, she stood and moved to sit carefully next to him and she placed her hand against his cheek. 

"You scared me," she admitted quietly, "I thought I was gonna lose you."

She'd come damn close to it too because their haphazard surgery had been dangerous at best and he'd crashed twice and she had all but broken down as she begged him to hang in there and just keep fighting for her.

"You didn't," he reassured her weakly, "I'm right here."

That didn't reassure her half as much as he'd hoped because she still looked worried as all hell, he patted the bed beside him and told her quietly to come lay with him... he knew there'd be hell to pay soon enough but right now all he wanted was her.

"I love you, okay?" He placed a kiss on the top of her head, "I always will."

Always, no matter what he'd love her forever. 


End file.
